83. Choose One Reward from Four Options

Dean pushed the door open and stepped into the Fifth Group office at the Las Vegas Police Department.

Karl, Kruger, Holden, Moeller, and Chad all turned with bright, eager eyes.

"Well? How did it go, man?"

Dean dropped into a chair by the conference table and waved away the sharp reek of cigarette smoke in front of him.

"Same story. The timeline, the traces at the scene... I kept everything aligned exactly as we agreed."

"Good. Then things should be manageable now."

Karl glanced around at his uneasy colleagues, all of them wearing the same dark circles under their eyes, and ground out his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Listen up. If none of us wants forced leave and a pink slip, we need to clean this up properly. Stop dwelling on it. If Internal Affairs keeps pulling you in, send them to me. I'll handle it. Chances are the brass will bury it and close the case fast."

...

"The internal review is over. No outsiders now, Dean, so give us the real explanation," Holden said, perched against the table with his arms folded, firing off questions like a machine gun. "Why would a grown man named Jack turn into Abby?"

"And what happened to her that left her lying in a hospital bed like a vegetable, unconscious while every test came back normal?"

Dean let his gaze pass over each curious face and shook his head.

"I can't explain it. If you force me to say something, then whether Jack or Abby, it wasn't a person at all, but some powerful creature with the ability to change shape."

By now, no matter how carefully he wove the lie, it would never hold. So he simply told the truth.

When he finished, he held his breath, waiting for the barrage of doubt he expected. Instead, there was only silence. Everyone lowered their heads, brows furrowed, deep in thought.

The truth seemed within reach, and yet as distant as a mountain too high to cross.

"What was that scream Jack made?" Kruger asked, his sickly face filled with terror. "It was like a switch got flipped in my head. Memories from decades ago came flooding back, and I saw my dead little sister standing before me again."

"Seven or eight years old, in a white hospital gown, thin as a doll, crying as she clung to me and begged me to save her. But I wasn't God. How could I bring a dead person back? I've been having that nightmare for two days straight."

"That sound reminded me of the times I had to talk with the most brutal killers at San Quentin. No, worse than that," Holden said with lingering fear. "I have never felt so disgusted, so sad, so sick that I wanted to kill myself."

"Small correction: you didn't just want to," Karl said, shaking his head. "You already had the gun to your head. If Dean hadn't stopped you, you'd have gone to meet God."

"That definitely wasn't hypnosis."

Karl rubbed his reddening face and added, "Damn it. Even I got caught up in it without realizing. After we entered the botanical garden, I suddenly fell asleep for no reason, and when I woke up it felt like I'd forgotten something. All of this... maybe only the supernatural can explain it."

Dean smiled.

"So even you people, the ones who care most about evidence, are willing to believe an unscientific explanation?"

"Anyone would change their mind after what happened at the funeral," Holden said, staring out the window. His handsome face was taut, and even his swollen dark circles seemed to carry confusion. "These last two days I've been reflecting deeply. Things I used to dismiss as superstition may actually be real, but because of the education I received, the fixed ways of thinking in my head, and the deep-rooted prejudice of the people around me, I never wanted to believe it."

Karl looked around at his colleagues with real empathy.

"Maybe devils and angels are both real... Guys, how about we all go to church this weekend, talk to a priest, and maybe get ourselves exorcised? Might even help us sleep better."

"Whatever you say, boss."

The officers nodded in unison, then turned their curious eyes back to Dean, hoping for more.

"Sorry, guys. I don't fully understand it myself, and I can't explain it either. But I've made peace with it."

Dean stood and walked around them, patting each of them on the shoulder in turn.

"Everything in this world is far stranger than we imagine. There are countless mysteries that remain unsolved: the Loch Ness Monster, the Bermuda Triangle, the pyramids, UFOs. Some have existed for over a century and still no one has reached a conclusion."

"But do they affect our daily lives?"

His gaze moved across the weathered faces of the officers, and he shook his head.

"No. The case is over now. What truly matters is that the real killer of Bucky Fran has been caught, and Abby, who was wrongly accused, will walk free today."

"As for whether the killer was a man or a monster, that's no longer our problem. Let the people above worry about that."

"Get some good rest. Go home, spend time with your families, relax, and forget this case completely."

Aside from Holden, who had been involved from start to finish, Karl, Kruger, and the rest all looked faintly dazed. From beginning to end they had seemed like puppets on strings, making only a few simple runs before stumbling onto a major case.

"Oh, right. You all haven't been sleeping well these past few days, have you? Jack's scream at the time caused you serious psychological strain. Go see a therapist. I don't want to hear that any of you killed yourselves one day."

"We're not that fragile, kid!" Kruger roared, his face red and his neck bulging.

"Shut up. Who was just crying about not being God a moment ago? Tomorrow you're going straight to counseling, and that's final!" Karl snapped at him, then looked back at Dean. "You too, get some rest for a couple of days..."

"I'm afraid I'll need more than a couple of days," Dean said bluntly. "I'm a little tired."

Throughout the case, he had felt that persuading these officers took more effort than solving the case itself.

Besides, he was also worried that continuing to draw cases from the Las Vegas Police Department at such a rate might trigger unpredictable risks and drag these ordinary people into another supernatural disaster.

"For the next two months, right up until '81, I'll be pausing my volunteer work. And if I want to get my high school diploma without problems, I'd better put in some real effort too."

The conference room fell silent for a moment. Everyone looked stunned; none of them had expected the most diligent volunteer in the history of the department to suddenly take a long leave.

Karl let out a laugh and extended his hand.

"I almost forgot you're still in high school. All right then, but don't keep everyone waiting too long. We're not used to managing without your help."

"Sure."

Dean gave him a light slap of the hand, then turned to Holden, whose face was full of unwillingness and expectation. "Man, once I've recovered a bit, I'll contact you first."

...

After leaving the Las Vegas Police Department, Dean drove to the parking lot outside the detention center in Vegas.

His friends had arrived earlier and were gathered beside a Lincoln, crowding around Abby, who had just come out of the detention center, chattering and touching everything in sight.

Abby's parents and the famous lawyer Victor Lucquell were standing nearby too, all of them beaming.

"Over here, Dean! You're late. We've all been waiting for you!"

Lusty waved excitedly at him, hopping up and down like a monkey full of chili peppers.

Dean returned the slap of a hand with Lusty and looked across at the tomboy opposite him. She was wearing a brand-new green dress, her hair had grown a little longer, her frame was thin and delicate, her chin sharper, but she looked healthy, and the acne on her face had somehow disappeared.

Abby even had a touch of girlish softness now, though her chest remained utterly flat.

Abby looked at him quietly, her eyes glittering. On her slender face flickered hesitation, nervousness, joy; she seemed about to speak, as though gathering some emotion deep inside.

"Haha, our great benefactor has arrived!" Abby's father, the middle-aged handsome Baptista, suddenly shouted. He gripped Dean's left hand firmly with both of his own.

"How can we ever thank you?" Mrs. Raj said tearfully, embracing Dean from behind and giving him the full benefit of a mature woman's warmth and generous curves. "What do you wish for?"

Dean was startled by the enthusiasm, yet at the same time it infected him, lifting his spirits and easing, little by little, the sorrow that had lingered in his chest these past days.

He suddenly began to understand what Thames had meant: positive emotions could resist and diminish negative ones.

Without making a fuss, Dean slipped free of the woman's embrace and looked around at the flushed, excited faces.

"It wasn't my achievement alone. It was everyone's effort. I only played a supporting role."

"Excessive modesty is just hypocrisy."

The lawyer extended his thick hand and shook Dean's.

"We were helpless against the prosecutor's mountain of evidence. If you hadn't personally brought that almost nonexistent suspect to the station and completely turned the case around, Abby would have been finished for life."

Raising his voice, the lawyer patted Dean's shoulder.

"You stepped up again. Just like with the Lake Mead incident, you turned the impossible into the possible. You saved a family and worked a miracle."

At that, Abby finally found the courage to step forward with open arms. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with admiration and gratitude, and a faint blush rose on her face.

"Congratulations, Abby. Now that you've made it through this crisis, the rest of your life will be smooth sailing."

Dean hugged her and patted her back, then changed the subject.

"So, Attorney Lucquell, is everything settled now?"

The stout lawyer nodded with a sigh.

"Our Abby has statements from Baptista, Raj, and the family doctor."

"And the other Abby has no evidence at all, and she's still unconscious, unable to defend herself. The district attorney's office, the court, and the police all want to move quickly and wrap this up, convicting her of first-degree murder as some measure of closure for Bucky Fran's parents."

"Come to think of it, if Raj and Baptista hadn't insisted otherwise, I'd have suspected the killer was Abby's twin sister."

Hearing that, Dean looked at the flood of prompts that appeared before him and grinned.

The process had been tortuous, but the result was not bad.

The only regret was that he could not save another innocent person still locked away in San Quentin: David Lee.

...

"Dean, we bought a lot of things today. We're having a big barbecue party to welcome Abby back," Baptista said with a smile. Dean knew that look well; it was the same one Thomas wore when he looked at him. "Everyone's going. You should come too!"

"Okay."

"Let's go, everyone!"

Lusty grabbed Britney's hand and shouted as he ran toward the Ford.

Dean got into his own Bronco, and Gretchen instinctively followed.

"Gretchen, you drive. I want to nap for a bit."

"Mm."

Dean settled into the passenger seat and sank his mind into the system.

The event, Demon or Innocent, progression one hundred percent. Event complete.

Through wild imagination and a measure of luck, you solved the disguised riddle and cleared the innocent Abby's name.

You took enormous risks, killed the Devourer of Sorrow, and upheld justice. As it turns out, even beings from fairy tales and legend cannot harm your companions before you!

Based on the outcome of the event, a special reward has been generated. You may claim it at any time.

Claim.

You gained 120 experience.

Personal level: Lv. 2, 60/300 -> 180/300

Choose one of the following four special rewards:

A. Superpower - Tide of Tears: draw strength from the sorrow, pain, and despair of others, storing it within your body. When released, it explodes outward, inflicting a mental shock on targets within a certain range, who must make a willpower check.

20 or higher: immune to the mental shock.

15 or higher: minor shock; dazed, unable to focus.

10 or higher: moderate shock; painful memories return, causing hallucinations, auditory distortions, insomnia, emotional collapse, and immersion in grief.

Below 10: severe shock; the sufferer falls instantly into overwhelming grief, may hurt themselves or others, and the negative effects last at least one month.

Note: This ability requires a minimum mental attribute of 15.

Improving this ability slightly increases your mental attribute.

...

B. Superpower - Mimicry: obtain a target's blood. Based on the blood sample, alter your own appearance and DNA. From soul to flesh, you will transform into the chosen target.

After transformation, you cannot possess any of the target's memories or abilities; your attributes remain those of your original body.

Initial level:

The transformed state can last up to 48 hours, but if you die while transformed, the body will not revert.

Requires 24 hours of blood analysis before transformation.

There is a seven-day cooldown after the transformation ends.

The mimicry target must be human.

Note: Choosing this ability requires time to stabilize and activate.

Improving this ability slightly increases your physique.

...

C. Superpower - Mark: mark a chosen target. You can sense the target's condition and location at any time, and remotely force the target into a state of sleep, fever, and pain that leaves them unable to resist.

Initial level: only one mark may exist at a time, lasting up to one month.

Note: Ordinary methods cannot remove the mark.

Improving this ability slightly increases your perception.

...

D. Increase physique by 1 point.

...

Amazing...

Dean's lips curved in excitement. With his eyes closed, he clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back even more comfortably.

One event, three superpower rewards, all of them from the Devourer of Sorrow.

Truly a legendary species. The ordeal had been worth the time, and worth almost getting his head blown off.

One out of four.

Dean first ruled out D, the option with no growth potential.

Attributes could be raised through other skills, but if he missed a superpower now, there might not be another chance.

Then he eliminated A.

The power was undeniably formidable. Twice it had left Dean unable to resist, at the mercy of the Devourer of Sorrow.

But subconsciously he rejected it. If strength could be drawn from human sorrow and pain, did that not mean one would need to torment others in order to grow stronger?

Power itself was neither good nor evil, but in the supernatural world, possessing Tide of Tears would greatly increase the risk of losing control. Dean feared that one day he might become another sleepless man willing to use any means necessary.

Besides, his mental attribute was still below 15, so even if he chose it now, he could not use it yet.

With some reluctance, he ruled out A.

Dean did not spend long wavering between B and C. Mark was certainly a superb tool for pursuit, but Mimicry was stronger and more comprehensive.

Changing one's form at the level of DNA, in a society dominated by science as this one was, was tantamount to becoming a faceless being who could come and go without a trace.

Once altered, chasing, fleeing, and reconnaissance would become as easy as dressing and eating.

The only pity was that the ability needed time to stabilize; he could not test it immediately after choosing it.

"Then it's decided."

"Choose B. Confirm."

The next second, Dean felt as though he had just drunk a freshly brewed cup of hot coffee. Something subtle shifted within him, though when he tried to grasp it, he could not quite say what it was.

At the same time, the ability bar's four of five became five of five.

A new entry appeared: Mimicry Lv. 0, stabilization countdown: 20 days.

"Mm. Twenty days is faster than I expected. I should be able to activate the new ability before November."

"But before I know it, the ability bar is already full. Does that mean I can't gain any more superpowers in the future?"

Dean's heart tightened, then on second thought he relaxed.

"There's definitely some way to expand the ability bar."

"I'm not in a hurry either. After all, too much to chew would only be a burden. My Shadow of the Past, Mimicry, Meditation, and the rest have only just begun. Their potential is nowhere near fully tapped."

"It's better to develop, strengthen, and use them properly than to keep gaining new abilities I can't even use."

The End.